


Communication Error

by Zatsy



Series: Overwatch Scribbles [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Reader is gender neural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 18:11:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8411455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zatsy/pseuds/Zatsy
Summary: Hanzo is a man of action, and doesn't confront his feelings with words very well. Inevitably, this leads to missed cues and misunderstandings. So, out of ideas and out of patience, you confront him early in the morning.





	

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY so I know I wanted to do a Hanzo thing, but it took me way longer than I wanted to come up with something coherent and I'm still not 100% satisfied with how this turned out  
> By the way, all your kudos and comments on previous works are super encouraging!! Thank you guys so much, I hope I can come up with more content for y'all to enjoy sometime soon  
> Edit: okay I totally had a friend read over this and I fixed a few things!

You didn't want it to come to this. In fact, you had been making great effort to avoiding this confrontation. Text messages, calls, even trying to catch him during training hadn't been making an impact. So now, your hand was forced to your last resort—his door. You stood at Hanzo's door before dawn had even broken, holding your fist just inches from the wood. You weren't sure how long you'd been standing there, debating whether or not to knock. With each passing moment, you felt more uncertain of yourself. Nobody else in the building was up yet. You were dressed in only your nightclothes, a basic Overwatch-issued black shirt and shorts. Your heart thumped hard in your chest as you let your anxiety build. Maybe you had been too rash, you needed to think more about what you needed to say.

You knocked anyway.

Minutes crawled by slowly. You knew that Hanzo was a light sleeper, there was no doubt he'd heard the knock. More likely was that he knew who was calling him at this ungodly hour. You chewed on the inside of your cheek anxiously. You thought about knocking one more time, in case he really hadn't heard, but before you could lift your arm, the door softly creaked open. You could just barely make out Hanzo's face, though the dim desk light he'd turned on was illuminating his sharp features and untied hair nicely. Despite having caught him at such an early hour, he didn't look disheveled at all, almost like he had been awake before you had come to his door. You two made eye contact. The silence was so tense between you two, you could have cut it with a knife. At first, you thought he would shut the door on you. He hadn't spoken to you in well over a week. Why would he want to talk to you in the wee hours of the morning, when you both should be asleep?

"Come in," he muttered eventually, opening his door to allow you inside. Surprised but not willing to pass up the opportunity, you walked in without a word. Your side stung as you stepped past the threshold, causing you to wince. He promptly shut the door behind you, his eyes trained to your waist. Any point you might have wanted to make had been lost. You were too nervous to say anything, even a simple hello. Your gaze was glued to the floor of his sparsely decorated room. More silence filled the space. Hanzo was a man of few, precise words, but even he was at a loss for what to say. The two of you eventually settled onto the side of his bed, neither looking at each other. You winced again, biting your lip as the skin folding sent a tight pain throughout your side. Hanzo took notice of this, and his brow furrowed in concern.

"Let me look at it," he said, approaching your right. You sighed heavily, unwilling to start off the conversation with an argument, and lifted your shirt over your stomach. A gauze pad was taped tightly to your right side, just under your rib cage, with a small blossom of red from the blood that had seeped through overnight. Hanzo stared at the wound with contempt. You had suffered a few gunshot wounds on your previous mission. Inevitable, as the two of you were caught in the throes of war. Though most of them had gone through cleanly, one bullet caught in your side and shattered. The more you moved, the deeper they dug, until one of them scratched an artery.

He couldn't get the sight of your limp, pale body out of his head. By the time you returned to safety, to him, you had bled so much that you were almost devoid of all color. Thank the Gods you had made it back in time. Mercy had pulled you back from the threshold of death, but you were still weak and in immense pain. You had been placed in the intensive care unit for a week. He visited you every single moment he could spare. He put off his training, his meals, and his personal care to quiet his fear that you wouldn't make it, despite Mercy's constant reassurance that you would be fine. To him, it was a display of carelessness on his part. He hadn't been watching out for you properly. Had he paid more attention to where you were, you would not be bedridden. He was inadequate as a protector, and unworthy as a partner. He distanced himself as soon as you were well enough to leave your bed. He resolved not to speak to you until he could protect you properly.

You pulled your shirt down. You'd had enough of his mind games. "Hanzo, this isn't why I'm here. We need to talk,"

"There is nothing to talk about," he said bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes, there is something to talk about," you repeated, standing firm. "You're ignoring me, and I feel like I have a right to know why," The anticipation you felt before was melting away. Though your hands were shaking, you weren't going to let him out of this. You were going to get answers, right here, right now.

Hanzo remained silent. He was more than used to standing his ground. He could be as silent as a statue and had a will made of iron. You grew frustrated with his silence. Why was he being so stubborn? This could be solved so easily if he would just admit something was wrong. A heavy weight settled in your stomach. Maybe, you thought, this wasn't a matter of Hanzo being stubborn, but you being too blind to see the truth.

"Look, if it's my fault...if I did something wrong, please just tell me. I can't change if I don't know what's wrong," you said, voice quavering. Tears welled up in your eyes. Was this his way of breaking up with you? This was a mistake, you thought. How could he, the great archer Hanzo Shimada, see anything in you after your careless display on your last mission? Without warning, tears fell from your eyes in large drops, splattering on your thighs. Your lips quivered as you brought the heel of your palm to wipe away the tears. You felt so ashamed.

Suddenly, you felt a strong arm wrap around your shoulders and a warm body to your side. You winced slightly as the wound throbbed with a dull ache, but your attention was diverted from that as Hanzo kissed the top of your head lightly. Though the globs of tears did not stop, you looked up at him curiously. There was deep remorse in his eyes, like he had made a grave mistake.

"No, none of this is your fault. It is mine," he admitted in a great, rare display of genuine emotion. "I distanced myself from you because I felt unworthy as your lover. I could not protect you, and you nearly died because of my carelessness. I cannot forgive myself for that. More importantly..." He paused, his grip on your shoulder tightening. "I cannot forgive myself for putting you through this. You are the most precious treasure in my life. To think that I have hurt you this way...perhaps I truly am unworthy to have you," Sorrow filled his face. It was so rare to have Hanzo this emotional that he couldn't be anything less than truthful.

You hugged him tightly, ignoring the throbbing in your side. A few more tears squeezed their way out of your eyes as you shut them tight, burying your face in his chest. Your chest heaved in something that wasn't quite a sob, but not quite a laugh. A tidal wave of relief crashed over you.

"You're so _dumb_ ," you hiccuped, your voice muffled slightly by his chest. "H-Honestly, Hanzo...you had me scared to death. I thought...never mind," You steadied yourself and loosened your grip. Your head rested against his chest more comfortably than before. "Please don't say those things about yourself. I'm just as much an Overwatch member as you, I should have been more cautious. I don't need you to protect me...even though it's sweet that you do. You visited me every day that week I was in the hospital, even though Mercy said I would be okay. I would say that's pretty worthy, don't you?"

Before he could answer, you lifted your hand to rest on the hand he had on your shoulder. You squeezed softly and smiled wearily. He sighed and placed another kiss on your head. He knew in his heart that you were right, but why affirm what was already true, he thought. He slowly released his grip on you and stroked your hair as you laid against his chest. 

Silence filled the air again, but this time, the tension was gone. All that was left was the comfort of two lovers enjoying each others company, the way it should be.


End file.
